


Scarred

by ThunderAirborne



Series: Depressing Descriptive Writing [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderAirborne/pseuds/ThunderAirborne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part one of 'Depressing Descriptive Writings'<br/>A girl finds herself with no purpose in life and no reason to live. She has been to Hell and back and she doesn't know how long she will be able to take it before she falls apart.</p><p>This is a group of works that have been written for the Hell of it and are depressing and melancholic.<br/>*WARNING MAY CAUSE TRIGGERS. THE ENTIRE THING IS DEPRESSING IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, DON'T READ THIS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarred

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LightningStarborne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningStarborne/gifts).



> This is the first part of my depressing writing series. These are just things I wrote in my freetime and this one (Scarred) is my best one so if you want to read the others (after I post them) knock yourself out.  
> ~TA

Screams echo through the hall then fade. Sobs come from a room with a dark blue flower drawn on the door. One the flower is written 'I am broken'. The walls of the room were a once comforting midnight blue. The bed sat in the middle of the room with crimson covers.

On the bed was a girls, about seventeen years old. She had milk skin and hair the color of night, her eyes a deep, sad blue. She was thin, like she hadn't eaten in while. There were scars littering her arms and a newly placed bandage. A scar lie on her face going down until it disappeared beneath her ebony gown.

Memories flash. Being taken by an unknown hand, a whip striking her back and knives cutting into her stomach. She remembers a long knife cutting from her forehead down to her ankle. She remembers hanging in chains when a woman burst into her cell.

Most of all, she remembers his words. His words poured acid over her wounds. They hurt worse than anything else. She wondered if they were true. _  
_

She felt a nearby presence and looked up. A man stood there, dark hair framing his high cheekbones and he was as pale as bone. He looked at her with sad emerald eyes. His clothes were as dark as the room he stood in. When he spoke he had a deep, silky voice with a British accent.

'I do not believe even I could help. So many people are not broken, just bent and can learn to straighten out. But you, you are broken into pieces. How are you still alive?'

'Why are you here' whispered the girl.

'It is my job. To help people with pain they do not deserve, You have so much pain it is hard to ignore.'

'Why me.'

'Because you haven't killed yourself yet.'

**Author's Note:**

> I realize, any Avengers fans who have read this, that the man seems a lot like Loki. He was on my mind when I wrote this so deal with it.  
> ~TA


End file.
